Warm A Winter Heart
by MimzyNoFace
Summary: Everything was fine until the day I was thrown under the bus. Literally. Well, under a car... but, I can't start there. Let me just tell you this; Jack Frost? He's real. And the nightmares, the threats that lurk in the dark... they're real too. This is our story, mine and Jack's, before... Well, I can't go and give myself away, now can I?
1. Chapter 1

I stood on the balcony overlooking the city. The lights of the buildings were buzzing with people, even in this late hour. All around me, some of the lights went out, leaving a black, empty hole where a once beautiful yellow light glowed. But still, some of the lights were left on, and a shadow passed in front of the sunshield every few moments. I guess there could be some righteous metaphor here, but I just think it looks pretty.

"Mimzy, come inside or you'll catch a cold." My mother, her makeup smeared where the remover missed it, stood half in, half out of our studio flat. Mom was beautiful, with auburn hair like mine and deep green eyes. We shared height and build, and could be twins if it weren't for the crow's feet reaching out at the corners of her eyes.

"Mim, are you alright?" Mom wrapped her shawl around me as she stepped outside. I had no clue how cold I was until I clutched the fabric against my arms.

I did the best I could to smile, and nodded. "Yea. Just daydreaming. Has everyone gone home?"

Earlier, Mom was hosting an in-home art show, where she set up her ballerinas and elephants, flowers and intricate Persian maidens, and took whatever money someone offered her for one of them. A few people had stayed late to smoke expensive cigars and talk to Mom about "her muse," and I walked outside to get some fresh air. I had no clue how late it was, but the sky was turning gray.

Mom led me inside, quickly closing the French sliding doors behind her and draping the curtains over them. She was weird about the whole "Peeping Tom" thing. I sat down on the dull red couch we've had since I was a kid, sinking comfortably back into its cushions. We had no TV ("It drains the imagination," Mom says) so my eyes wandered around the room. Most of the familiar paintings were gone, but luckily she didn't sell any of my favorites; The Contortionist, who was viewed bent and twisted from inside a glass box; Pie Man, an older piece with an older black man in barber stripes selling baked sweets to a white man (Mom did it to voice equality on the matter). There were a few easels with nearly finished portraits and animals, and one near the bookshelf that I used. Right now, it was just a blank canvas.

"Here ya go, before I send you off to bed," Mom handed me a mug of hot chocolate. I let the warmth envelop my numb fingers before taking slow, cautious sips. With a creak of the couch, Mom sat down beside me and retrieved _The Picture of Dorian Grey_ from the coffee table, opening it to her marked page.

That's another thing. My mom _loved_ books. Sometimes she would even trade her paintings for a book she had been searching for, or even if she thought that it would be a good read. Along the length of our living room/study were oak bookshelves screwed into the brick walls. Numerous spines looked out at us, books filled with modern romance or swarthy buccaneers, anything between the 1800s and now. Mom had it all, and passed the love of art and the written word down to me.

I watched her as she scanned the pages. Her eyes lit up; I noted to myself that I would have to read it after her. I wondered if my face lit up like that when the plot twisted or the villain turned out to be kinder than I first thought.

"You're hot cocoa's getting cold," she marked her page and set the book back down on the coffee table. Leaning, she kissed my cheek. "G'night, baby,"

I set the mug down on a coaster and kissed her back. "'Night, mom."

My room was freezing when I opened the door. The window above my bed was wide open, the curtains dancing like spider webs in the breeze. The latch was fine, so I couldn't figure how it opened on its own. I sat on my knees and reached out into the cold, searching for the frame of the window. My hand touched something soft and I jumped, jerking my hand back inside. _Ugh_, I hated touching things I couldn't see. I waited a minute before quickly grabbing the window and latching it shut. I sunk into my pillow, not daring to look into the dark for fear of seeing a face that wasn't mine. Not caring enough to change into my pajamas, I burrowed beneath the covers before falling asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

"Mimzy!"

I stopped on the corner of Main and 54th, looking for whatever being dared to pull my out of my dazed walk to _Mona's Café_. The morning was rough and cold, the wind flying by and piercing through my bright red scarf. I'd had a terrible night's sleep, a nightmare I couldn't remember, and could feel how heavy my body was from lack of sleep. Above the busy heads of the pedestrians, one mop of brown curls bobbed through, shoving past the unhappy bystanders. My annoyed feelings went away as Nikki jumped up beside me.

"Mona's?"

I nodded, and turned my face up to the electronic hand that forbade us to move. I could feel Nikki beside me, bubbling over with a coffee to-go cup already in her hand. She was my height, fairly, and her brown curls were streaked with red. Today she wore a simple black coat and green scarf, with adorable black and white leggings. I felt like a total slob in my layered sweatpants and coat.

The light winked into a walking man, and the traffic slowed to let us walk by. Nikki was in-step beside me, chattering about the amazing cookies her mom baked and how I needed to try one. Honestly, I was trying harder to focus on not being run over by the swarm of pedestrians that came at us either way. An older guy elbowed my in the ribs and I swore under my breath. Nikki had gone up ahead, talking to someone she must have thought was me. Someone else stepped on the back of my shoe, and I turned to try and find out who it was just as another person ran into my shoulder. I stumbled to the right, tripping through the crowd until I fell out into the street.

Pushing myself up, I brushed off the grime and whatever the heck _that_ was from my coat. My palms stung and I brushed off the gravel. A lady behind me screamed. Bright yellow lights filled my vision as the taxi came barreling towards me. And, doing what every human did when they thought they could stop their oncoming death, I threw my hands up over my face.

Something latched around my waist, jerking me to the side and deeper into the traffic. Horns blared all around me and voices rose in the air. The presser around my waist pulled me aside as a caravan swerved. If I had stayed where I was, I would have died for sure.

The pavement beneath my feet was slick with ice. I flailed my arms around, trying to keep my balance as the cars kept honking and screeching and swerving around me. Falling on my butt, I slid and rolled beneath a parked car. I lost my cap to a mud puddle and a very angry driver.

Boots stepped around the car I was under, a very clean pair of UGGS in particular. Nikki dropped to her knees and reached her hand out for me.

"Oh my gosh! Mimzy!" Nikki set me up against the hull of the car. My heart pounded in my eardrums. I set a hand on my stomach. The pressure there was gone. Other people swarmed around me, asking if I was alright or cussing me out for jumping out in the middle of traffic.

"She didn't jump, asshole," someone stated firmly, shutting the younger woman up. The speaker was lost in the crowd.

"Are you alright?"

"Do you need a doctor?"

"Yes, 9-1-1?"

I sat up suddenly, eyes wide. "No, no, I'm fine! Good, all's good."

Some of the bystanders, their worries dismissed, walked away to continue on with their day. An elderly woman stayed behind for a moment, patted my hand and gave me a butterscotch, and left me with Nikki. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"That," she huffed, her breath coming out in a white cloud, "was. Freaky. Mim, you could've _died_!"

"Well, it's a good thing I didn't, huh?" I tried to laugh but I came out all choked and warbled. The tears filled my eyes before I could help it, and I did my best to hold them back. Nikki frowned and hugged me, and I breathed heavily into her shoulder. That… that _was_ freaky. It happened in slow motion. I saw the cars, the lights, heard everyone screaming… It took me a second to realize that I had screamed, right before I rolled under the car. I pulled away quickly, embarrassed at my reveal of emotion. Nikki smiled, and stood, lifting me up with her.

"Alright. Off to get a double shot of espresso."

I laughed. "Definitely."


	3. Chapter 3

With a double espresso-cinnamon twist in hand, I muted out everything around me and scrolled through my lame excuse for a Tumlbr. I have twenty followers, and less than a quarter of those actually like the paintings and sketches I've put up. I haven't even bothered putting together a blog.

"Mim? Mimzy, did you hear anything I just said?" Nikki swirled her ice water around with her straw. She had dumped the coffee as soon as possible, but bought two double fudge cookies for us to share.

Shrugging, I slipped my phone back into my pocket and took a sip of my espresso. "I said," Nikki nodded behind me. "He's been looking at you for, like, ever." The look she was giving me said "check _that_ out," and I turned ever so casually towards the door. _Mona's Café_ was small, but in that comfy, to-grandmother's-house-we-go small. Christmas was on its way, so layers of tinsel sprinkled the tiny fake trees, and there was always this pine-and-eggnog smell. Where I assume Nikki was nodding towards, a boy (Man? Man-Boy?) reclined on one of the couches, nodding to whatever blared through his headphones. His face was smooth, clear, and utterly adorable. He caught me staring and gave me a mischievous _wink_.

Nikki snorted into her water as I whipped back around to face her. She nudged me under the table. "Go talk to him.

"Sorry, but I like my coffee where it belongs," I got up, gathering our trash, "Which is in my stomach, by the way." I could hear Nikki listing other reasons – scared, shy, and over-dramatic – and I couldn't help but look over to the couch where the guy was sitting.

It was empty. Nikki sighed, saying, "There goes your chance," and dumped her half-finished water into the garbage bin. Shrugging, trying not to look disappointed, I headed for the door.

"Hold on, I gotta pee."

Nikki ran out towards the girl's bathroom and I slumped into the nearest empty seat. I set my chin on my fist and realized that my hands were shaking. Wow. I was really shook up about the whole almost dying thing. Go figure.

"Got something on your mind?"

I jumped out of my skin and turned around in my seat. Really, I didn't need any more scares. The guy from the couch had taken the stool across from me. He leaned on the table, arms crossed, smiling like we were friends. "I'm sorry; did I scare you?"

"N-no, of course not, no." Nikki was taking an awfully long time in the bathroom. I kept looking around the café, willing for her to appear. He was probably looking at _her_ anyways.

The guy smiled again, revealing an array of beautiful white teeth that was striking against his black hair. "I'm Tobias Summer."

I nodded, not entirely sure that I should give him my name. He was striking, yeah, and utterly adorable, and… I don't know where I was going with that. So I said, "Mimzy."

Tobias grinned. He did that an awful lot, now that I think about it. "Cute. Nice to meet you, Mimzy."

As if things couldn't get more awkward, Nikki game rushing out of the bathroom when she saw me. Grinning, she shared the seat with me and stuck out her hand. "Nikki, Mimzy's number-one BFF."

"Nice to meet you," Tobias muttered without looking at her. He kept his eyes on me as she pulled her ignored hand back. Then he got up and walked around the table. Dipping to whisper into my ear, he quickly said;

"Watch your back. Rescues like that won't happen often."

My bones turned into ice as he left with a smirk still on his face. Nikki held my arm and asked me what was wrong, but I was reflecting on the cross-walk. People talking, yelling, elbowing me… and a bright smile glowing at me as I fell into the street.

So if he pushed me…

What saved me?


	4. Chapter 4

Nikki walked me home, arm in arm, and talked my ear off about the rudeness of the once-hunky Tobias. "Seriously," she sighed, buzzing us in like it was her home too. I could have told her what Tobias had said to me. Then I second-guessed that topic of conversation and let her carry on. "The nerve of some idiots. He could have at least _looked_ at me." We stepped into the elevator were lifted upward.

"Aw, jelly much?" I nudged her ribcage, trying to lighten the mood for myself, too.

"Yes."

"Shut up," I laughed. The elevator buzzed and we pushed open the door.

As always, Mom found some inspiration while I was out. Old newspapers littered the floor, dabbed with colorful blotches of paint. We walked inside, Nikki minding her new boots, and came upon my mother doing what looked to be some sort of yoga pose. She stood in front of a huge canvas that faced away from us, leaving up against the couch. Mom looked at us, upside-down, from between her legs.

"Girls! Hi, Nikki!"

"–_pfft_– Hey, Ms. Bird," I elbowed her in the ribs, but couldn't stop laughing myself. Mom up-righted herself and swatted a loose strand of hair out of her face.

"Yeah, you think it's so funny," Mom grabbed my hand, and I grabbed Nikki's. She pulled us in front of the canvas and turned us around. "Look at it."

"Well, I can't unless I grow eyes out of my butt."

Nikki snickered. Mom rolled her eyes and did her stance again, spreading her feet out and looking at the canvas upside-down. I complied, bending the same way, and Nikki, still snickering, obeyed.

What was once a splatter of unorganized blues and oranges became a ballerina and a young man on his knees. The ballerina stood on her toes, one arm above her head and the other stretched elegantly towards the rose the man held out to her. Nikki had stopped snickering. With the blood rushing to my head, it took me a second to think of how amazing my Mom was.

We all up-righted ourselves and squished into the loveseat. The unorganized splatter was back, but now we could just make out the ballerina and her companion.

"Wow, mom,"

"That was pretty cool, Ms. Bird."

Mom smiled. It was only every other Saturday that her artwork was complimented, after all. "Thank you, girls. Nikki, are you spending the night?"

Obviously, since she didn't have her black over-night bag with her. Nikki shook her head. "Just walking my BFF home. Ever since she fell into the street–"

I couldn't elbow her fast enough. Mom's eyes went wide, and she jumped over Nikki to look at me. Grabbing my face between her hands, smushing my cheeks together, she bombarded me with questions. "Are you hurt? What happened? How'd you fall? Why weren't you paying attention, honey?"

"Mom! Mom!" I pushed her hands away and took a much needed breath. "I'm fine. I just tripped. That's all."

Nikki raised her eyebrows behind Mom. I raised mine back, daring her to say another word. She shrugged and stood up, fixing her scarf. She had _Tobias_ in her eyes, but only said, "Bye, Ms. Bird. See ya later, Mim." I waved goodbye and just went ahead and let Mom clean the gravel cuts in my palm.

It suddenly got very cold, and I glanced around the room. None of the windows were open. _Must've been a draft_, I thought, and winced as the rubbing alcohol burned my palms.


	5. Chapter 5

Another fitful sleep. It was like I was watching myself have a nightmare. I could see my hair, wet with sweat, clinging to my neck as I turned in my bed, trying to get comfortable. When I woke up, I choked back a scream that was clawing up my throat. The night air was cool; my alarm clock said it was only 2:20. The sheets tangled around my legs and it took me a second to swing my feet over the edge of the bed. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to remember the nightmare. The effort was hopeless, but the fear stood in the corner of my mind, breathing needles of fright down my spine.

When I opened my eyes again, a shadow jumped across the pale light my window let in. I crawled away from it fast, squeaking with surprise and backing against my footboard to look out at the dull city sky. The Man in the Moon seemed to grin at me knowingly.

"I don't see what's so funny," I muttered into the dim light of my room. Trying to get comfortable on my bed again, I only continued to mutter to myself. "It was just a bird, or a squirrel." Then I started thinking about how big the shadow was. "Optical illusion. Yea." I glanced back out the window, and froze.

A line of frost dragged straight across my windowpane. White, beautiful crystalized flakes spread out from the line. Frost didn't do that. Frost covered everything. It didn't gather into a line, not touching the rest of the window. I crawled across my bed, sitting on my knees, and touched the glass. The frost pulled back, closing in on itself until it disappeared at the point where I had touched it.

When I woke up, I was on the floor, my comforter bundled around me. I think I passed out, and I secretly hope that it wasn't because of the window. Not that I'll tell anyone that I passed out because of a frost covered window, but _I_ would still be embarrassed about it.

Whatever. I yawned, big and like a horse because those are the best yawns, and reached for the _Star Wars_ hoodie in the corner. The room was chilly, and I pulled it over my head before daring to venture out from beneath my covers.

Mom had the radio turned low on a jazz station and was already painting away. An unfinished breakfast of bacon and toast sat discarded on the coffee table. She brushed a streak of green onto her upside-down canvas, stepped back to observe it, and added another stroke.

"Mom," I snagged a piece of bacon from her plate. "You're the only person crazy enough to _not_ finish their bacon." She shrugged.

"What can I say?"

"Nothing, because you have no sane reason." Mom chuckled and shook her head, finishing her glass of OJ. Soon, though, she fell into that inspirational daze you were in when you drew or painted or read a book. You were open to the imprints of the space around you, letting them affect how your work turned out. That's why mom always had something happy and cheerful next to her as she worked. Today, it was her wedding photograph book.

I've thumbed through that linen-lined book numerous times, glancing at family members long gone or out-of-country. But there was one old Polaroid that I absolutely loved. Dad held Mom close to him, and arm around her waist, and had a hand above their wedding cake, ready to cut. Mom was smiling at the camera, but Dad looked down at her lovingly. She was his world. He was hers. When he died, when I was really little, I could feel something change in Mom. For a while, her paintings were scary and dark. But then something changed her, though I still see the dark every now and then. I'm just glad she lost a piece of herself and not the whole thing.

The curtains by the French doors were pulled back, offering a sunny cool light on Mom's canvas as she worked. It gave me just enough light in my own little corner, and I pulled my stool close to my canvas. This was the part I hated. The waiting. Usually something struck me right off the bat and I would paint until sunset and still not be finished. But today was one of those days that I sat there, staring profusely at the blank canvas, willing for something to pop into my head.

After ten minutes of watching my mother whisk away at her painting, I groaned and slid off the stool.

"Where are you going?" Mom asked as I grabbed my scarf and old (but fashionable) snow boots.

"Out."

Mom stopped painting and rested her free hand on her hip. "'Out' where?"

Shrugging, I tucked my thick pajama pants into the boots. Okay, so I don't mind much about my appearance, but give me a break; I'm just interested in being comfortable. I found a jacket that sort of matched my boots, and zipped it up as Mom made her way over to me.

"I don't want you going anywhere alone." She said, a motherly fear filling her eyes.

"C'mon, mom, I've been walking alone since I was ten. I'm just going to the park."

She was calculating the distance in her eyes. It was less than three blocks away, practically an open field with an over-glorified fountain and a year-round ice rink in the middle. A few trees lined the iron spiked fence around it, benches stood here and there, and that was pretty much it. Nothing I could get into trouble with.

"Okay. Okay, you're right. It's not like the street thing was on purpose."

An icy feeling swelled in my stomach. I still had my suspicions about Tobias; guys like that don't just threaten girls like me. Well, at least _I_ didn't do it, so I don't think that pertains to me… I kissed Mom on the cheek to try and say that all was well. "Thanks mom; be back by…" – I snuck a glance at the clock: 10:15. "…by three, okay? I'll pick up some milk on the way home."

Mom said that was fine and I closed the door behind me. The elevator was freezing and I threw my hands into my pockets. It buzzed and stopped for another person, and we rode down in awkward silence. With the next low bee-like hum, the elevator opened and I ran out into the cold mid-winter air.

Despite its annoying pedestrians, congested traffic, and the bitter winters, New York City had its perks. Sure, you couldn't see the stars, but the twinkling lights against the foggy blue sky made up for it. Music blared from the underground jazz cafés, livening the step of anyone who walked by. And underneath the smog and greasy food joint aroma, I could smell on the wind the coming of snow.


	6. Chapter 6

**WARNING: NIGHTMARES ARE PROHIBITED FROM READING THIS FANFICTION**

The ice rink in the park was closed, so I ambled past its plastic wall barriers and glanced at my reflection. A messy bun, wide brown eyes ringed with dark circles due to nightmarish sleeps, and a jacket that didn't match as well as I thought it did. I pulled the hairband out, wincing a little, and raked the bed-head back into a half-descent pony tail. Oh, well. I wasn't planning on impressing anybody. Something black flicked across the glass, and I whipped around to see Tobias standing behind me.

He was close, for someone I had just met and, frankly, despised. Tobias smiled. Wrapped in a plain black scarf, swathed in black leather, he looked exactly like the kind of boy mom's didn't want their daughters around.

"You skate?"

I shook my head. Gliding, falling, and crawling to the exit wasn't really counted as skating. Tobias mock-frowned. "Too bad. I was hoping to get a few rounds in with you."

"Rink's closed, anyways," I said. He gave me a dangerous look, like he was talking about _something_ _else_ entirely. I blushed and hid my chin in my scarf. He was getting a little too friendly, setting a hand above my head, leaning in against the glass. _I swear to God, if he kisses_ _me I will castrate him_. Suddenly the air shifted. It became cooler, fresher. Tobias looked around us with a scowl while I allowed myself to take a deep breath.

"Crap…" He clutched my upper arm suddenly, pulling me from leaning against the glass. "You're coming with me, toots."

_Toots?_ "Let me go!" I struggled to pull away but his grip only tightened. "Let me go or I'll scream!" Tobias pulled me after him, rushing down the sidewalk towards the thickest of the park trees. I opened my mouth, the first pitch of the scream rising in the back of my throat. Tobias jerked me towards him and I slammed against his chest. His hand slapped over my mouth and he looked around nervously.

The park was nearly empty. I didn't get the sudden fear in his eyes; I didn't think that he scared so easily. There was only the guy on the ice rink's Zamboni, and he was far enough away to just glance over us. When he figured that no one else was watching, Tobias grinned. It wasn't cute and flirtatious, like the one in the café. This one was hungry and threatening.

"Is that a bust I feel under there, Mim?" He pulled me closer, an arm around my waist and his hand pressed against my mouth. My chest pressed onto his. "May just have to take you in before I give you over to Pitch."

_What the heck?_ I wanted to scream. _Pitch?_ I wedged my arms between us and pushed as hard as I could.

Tobias was lifted up and backwards, flying a good twenty feet away before slamming up against one of the trees. I looked at my hands, then at him. _Holy mother of God. _Tobias didn't glare at me, though. His eyes bore a hole into whatever he thought was directly in front of him. Pushing himself off the ground, seemingly unhurt, his fisted his hands. They turned black, the color seeming to drip off his coat and stain his skin. I blinked, but they were still that sharp, scary color that glared against the slushy snow.

"C'mon!" He yelled at nothing, his fists completely black. "C'mon!" Tobias lurched forward, only to grip his stomach and double over in pain. Something knocked his chin, making his head jerk back. I only watched as he was thrown side to side, beat to crap by some invisible totally-on-my-side being. I would be laughing, honestly, because it looked so ridiculous, but I was too busy staring.

The air shifted. What was once clean and fresh was pushed aside by something dark and heavy, like garbage thrown out in the mud, and then a skunk spraying it. I coughed, my eyes watering with the stench. Tobias raised his fist and threw one, two, three good punches until he forced one kick onto whatever he was fighting. His black fists dripped with darkness that disappeared before it touched the ground.

Then he looked at me.


	7. Chapter 7

What I should have done was run. Turn on my heels; book it like nobody's business and go home. And I tried to. But my boots were sucked into the slushy puddles around my feet. Black tendrils whipped around my ankles before lashing out onto my legs. Gravity seemed to be against me, weighing me down like and anvil was tied to my back. Tobias only got closer as I stood there, numb from my waist down, trying to get the connection between my brain and my legs to start working again. I opened my mouth to scream, but sharp needles and pinpricks of pain shot through my throat and skull. I doubled over, holding my skull. White fairies dotted my vision.

A searing, hot pain ripped through my legs, making my vision blur and blacken at the edges. Something snagged onto the collar of my jacket and I choked out a warbled screech when Tobias' boots came into view. I was weightless. I couldn't feel the ripping pain in my legs anymore, and I seriously, honestly thought I was going to die from the pounding in my skull.

That was about the time I realized that Tobias looked like an ant.

Oh, yea. And I was flying.

Flying.

I know what you're thinking; _Wow! Flying sounds really great!_ No. Not at first, anyways. I saw the ground shrink away from my feet, watched Tobias' black figure fade into the distance. My legs dangled over the trees, and I only kept going up-up-up. Soon, the buildings were below me, and the wind was howling in my ears. Laughter erupted in my head, and I knew it wasn't me. The tight feeling of fear in my throat was replaced with an itch to scream, or cry, or do _something_ as the world faded into a gray fog.

"Put me down!" I finally managed to say, tears stinging my eyes. Nothing answered me. The wind continued to howl laughter as I raced through the air. "Putmedownputmedown_please_!"

The world rushed up to me so suddenly that my stomach dropped at the sudden change in altitude. A shabby, lone rooftop came up to meet me and I thought I was going to crash. I threw my hands up to cover my face, but my feet gently touched to roof with an airborne lightness. My legs gave out and I backed against the AC unit. Pins and needles tickled my whole body and I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes, willing the tears to go away.

_Go away, go away_, I told myself. "Breathe. Breathe." Something cold skimmed my knuckles and I jumped, pulling my hands away. Nothing was there. I was alone on the rooftop. I remembered how Mom breathed during yoga and tried to do that; in the nose, out the mouth. Nose, mouth, nose, mouth.

"Hey,"

I squeaked. The wind tickled the hair on my neck. Someone was trying to get my attention. But… but the rooftop… I'm alone.

"Hey, look at me,"

My knees shook, but I pushed myself up anyways. Yes… someone was trying to talk to me. I surveyed the rooftop, just as a fine layer of snow sprinkled down from the gray clouds. Pulling my coat tighter around me, I watched my breath come out in plumes of white smoke, willing myself to calm down. A snow flurry touched the tip of my nose, and I paused, a familiar song sparking to life in my memory.

_Chestnuts roasting by the fire, _

_Jack Frost, nipping at your nose… _

No. It couldn't… Flying… I turned back around, towards the AC unit. Blinking was like wiping away the smudges on your glasses; a little patch of air before me started to clear up.

The he was there, staring at me. Worn, faded jeans frayed at the ends. A regular blue hoodie, the hood pulled back away from the hair the color of the snow that fell around us, looking a little wind-blown, everything edged in a layer of glittering frost. The staff he held was gnarled and beautiful, lighting up with frost where he held it. He must have figured out that I could see him, because he smiled. Not a _Tobias_ smile. A lovely, clean smile that sparked the blue in his eyes. A Jack Frost smile.

_Jack Freaking Frost._

My knees went weak again, but I managed to stand on my own by gripping the waist-high wall that enclosed the rooftop. We stood there quietly; me, with my mouth hanging open in astonishment; Jack, standing there and smiling.

"You… You're…" My disbelief caught the words in my throat.

A crooked grin broke out across his face. "Jack Frost. Crazy, right?" He clutched his staff and leaned casually against it, like he wasn't some mythical character that just freaking proved that he existed.

I nodded, and then tried to make myself talk. "You did that? At the park, with–" Jack's icy hand covered my mouth gently. He moved so fast and only hovered in front of me, inches off the ground. The wary look he gave the abandoned rooftop made me scared. But the cool light filled his eyes when he was sure that we were alone.

"Don't mention _him_. Don't say his name out loud." He looked over the wall, towards the miserable people who didn't have a cap to protect them from the flurries of snow. His posture was care-free, and when he looked back at me, a playful, almost childish face looked back at me. This was a boy made of fun and light. It was beautiful against the anger and dark that was imprinted on me by Tobias.

Jack held out his hand. "I need to get you home." I didn't want to take my hands out of my coat pockets, but I relinquished one to the cold winter air. His fingers wrapped around mine; they were even colder.

"Wind," Jack pulled me gently against him and kept his arm respectfully around my lower back. The biting winter wind prickled against my face, whipping Jack's hair around in an almost lovingly manner. "Let's go."

We rose into the air, slowly at first, the ground falling away from out feet. Then – we didn't get too far from the buildings –Jack held me tight against him and leaned back, floating like you would on the surface of water. Wind jerked us forward. It was fast, but not as loopy and harsh as when we were making our escape. Now, we glided over New York, the skyscrapers disoriented, leaning out away from the streets as we rushed overhead. The air was colder up there, and I clung to Jack. Fear gripped my stomach and my heart jumped into my throat as I watched the ant-like people and cars fly by in streams of color. I think Jack's arm tightened around me, but I'm not sure; I was too worried about falling to my death on the pavement below.

My apartment building came into view, and I realized how old it looked against the glass-metal skyscrapers around it. The building was slumped between two office complexes, its faded yellow paint reminding me of a sunflower growing through the cracks in the sidewalk. Windows were arched in that old fashioned plantation kind of way, though the pavement around it brought you out of 1910's Georgia. The iron gates were newer, the elevator just added a few years back, and it lost some of its charm with the matching pair of marble lions out front.

Jack flew me over the building towards the back, where my balcony protruded over the pitiful community garden. I mentally checked to make sure the curtains were closed before we landed; him on the iron railing, I on the balcony itself. He sat on his toes, holding his staff out in front of him and balancing perfectly. Ice twined like white ivy from his feet, looping around the railing. Nervous, aware of how close I was to him, I took a step back.

"Thanks," I mumbled, not trusting my voice. Jack nodded, the grin still loosely hanging on his face.

"Be careful, okay?" What I could only hope was genuine worry filled his eyes. "Guys like that are–"

"Douches?" I put in.

He chuckled, leaning on his staff. "Yea. And really, really dangerous."

I nodded, and pressed my back against the glass door. Jack looked at me hard, like he was searching for something in my face. Then he stood up on the railing with ease, staff in hand. Turning, he lifted a foot off the railing before jumping off entirely. My stomach dropped and I ran.

"No, wait!" Clutching the railing, I leaned over, almost knocking my forehead against his. Jack's head popped up, level with the railing. He floated below, casually hanging there in mid-air.

"What?" The tone in his voice was curious, not annoyed. But something crossed his face – impatience, I guessed – as he waited for me to continue.

I realized I had been staring too long into his blue eyes – the color of the sea before a storm– and clear my throat. "Why… what are you doing here? With me?"

A moment passed us in silence. Another, with him looking up at me. Then he said, "I'm here to protect you. And right now, that's all you need to know."

He started to fly off. I called to him again, and Wind pulled him around to face me.

My stomach fluttered – butterflies? – and I slowly asked my next question. "What if something like…" I didn't want to finish it. Fear gripped my heart at the thought of Tobias. "What if _that_ happens again?"

The distance between us was fair, but he floated down to face me again. Clasping his hands together, a soft blue light broke out through the space between his fingers. When he opened them, a simple ice necklace laid across his palm, perfect clear circles strung together in beads of white that reflected their surroundings on their surface. He unclasped the necklace, and I stepped forward.

"Break one of the beads. Think of me."

I blushed and hoped that he didn't notice as he clasped the necklace behind me. It was cool and heavy against my chest, and brought me peace. I touched it gingerly. Jack backed away, floating again above me.

"Don't hesitate to call," he said, as he flew off into the gray clouds. A gentle shower of snow began to fall, but I watched the clouds cover the thin hole he had made when he flew through.

Suddenly I shivered. Then, sneaking one last glance up at the clouds, I opened the glass door and walked into the living room.

Mom whipped around, eyes wide. "Good God! I thought you were a burglar."

I thought of the most plausible lie, saying, "I walked in, but you were so busy painting you didn't notice."

Mom glanced at her painting, almost complete, to the door, then to me. She looked dazed, half in, half out of her painting trance. "I'm sorry honey."

Shrugging off my coat and removing my scarf and cap, I laid them on the coffee table and headed back towards my room.

"Did you get milk?"

I mentally face-palmed myself. I couldn't have just asked Jack to stop by the supermarket? But I turned slowly, tiredly, and shook my head. "Had a longer walk than expected."

She nodded, as if she _knew_. But she didn't. She couldn't. "Alright; I'll get some later."

I nodded, and bothered to leave my door open as I fell into bed. I prayed that none of this, the flight, Jack, was a dream.

I woke in the middle of the night, finding one fist clasped tightly around the necklace. None of the beads broke. None melted in my palm. Slowly, I drifted into the twilight of awake and asleep. My last thought was of how I never told Jack where I lived.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Sorry that the chapters have been short. I'm leading up to 10, which will probably be one of the more important chapters in my FF.**_

**WARNING: NIGHTMARES ARE PROHIBITED FROM READING THIS FANFICTION**

Surprisingly, I had no nightmares. The night left me to wander in that empty realm where sleep felt only seconds long. So my body woke exhausted, weak and still gripped with fear of the shadows of my room. My threadbare curtain hung over my window; I remember setting it there when I woke up for a matter of seconds. Now, sitting on my knees, I pull it back to survey the cement-slab wall of building that neighbored us. A patch of frost, a casual effect of the winter to the untrained eye, but shaped like a small, half-circled platform from where I sat. It confirmed my suspicions.

Jack Frost had been watching me. And I wasn't entirely sure I was flattered.

I stumbled out into the hallway that leads from the bedrooms to the living room. The air was chilly, and the heater kicked on when I passed it, like a snoozing employee getting back to work when their boss appeared. Mom had fallen asleep on the couch again. A plaid blanket covered her middle and her feet were still in their house shoes. A brush had fallen from her hand to the floor. I found a rag and mopped up the blue gunk, thankful that our apartment didn't have carpet. Mom touched my cheek, a silent thank you, and fell back to sleep.

The morning was bright, though it was only five after seven. I walked into the kitchen, trying to step my bare feet into the warm light on the floor that fell in from the window. The counters were as messy as my mom's painting area (which was sort of anywhere and everywhere). I set about cleaning most of it up, figuring that the bacon pan can be used again this morning without a problem.

As I cleaned, the weight of the ice necklace chilled my collar bone, reminding me that – no, it was not a dream – and – yes, there was a inky black maniac that was obsessed with me. The thought sent a shiver through me, and I busied myself with laying out the bacon. Once it began to sizzle and pop, Mom was up and refilling her pain mugs.

Setting a breakfast of eggs, toast, and bacon before her, I waited patiently for her to set aside her brush. Mom sighed, looking up at me with puppy dog eyes. It was comical, how I stood above her like the parent and she looked up at me like the child. Finally, she put down her brush and shoveled the meal into her mouth.

"So," she said between forkfuls, "you bought a necklace and not milk?"

My stomach jumped and I reflectively placed a hand over the icy beads. "Nikki gave it to me, actually," I lied. "When she was walking me home. She said she didn't want it anymore." Two lies, right in one sentence. Last night I had pondered how many lies I would have to tell her before she found out.

If she found out.

But Mom scanned the necklace with little interest. "Pretty," was all she said before finishing her meal. I took up the plate, heart drumming in my chest, and set it in the sink. I hardly ever lied to my mother; she was all I had left. I wanted fresh air. I could feel the walls coming in around me. _Lies, lies, lies, how many more lies?_ They mocked me.

"Mimzy?" I jumped when Mom's hand touched my shoulder. Her eyebrows were drawn down in worry. I smiled, nonchalantly shaking off her hand and fixing my own plate of food.

"Sorry, I was in a daze. I didn't get a whole lot of sleep."

She nodded. _That_ she did understand. I can't count how many nights Mom went without sleeping to finish a portrait or organize and art show. I only knew how beautiful her masterpiece turned out. Even now, with its foreground slowly coming together, the portrait was nearly complete. The edges were still white, but I knew she would fill them in no time.

White… snow…and frost…_Jack_.

I shook my head, mentally clearing the cobwebs and the stormy, icy blue eyes. Mom had gone back to her painting, so she didn't notice the vacant expression I took on when I began to think.

Jack said that he was here to protect me. I could understand that, somewhat, because of the way Tobias' inky hands had grabbed for me. But who sent him? And better yet, why? I found myself absently rubbing the icy beads between my thumb and forefinger. An idea slowly hatched in my mind, and I wolfed down what was left of my breakfast.

Mom glanced at me as I pulled on my coat and scarf. This time I bothered to pull on a pair of nice jeans and winter boots, but kept my _Star Wars_ hoodie visible beneath my coat. I needed to talk to Jack.

"I'm gonna go get the milk."

"Now?" Mom brushed away at the canvas, glancing at me when she could.

"Yea. And cereal. And more bacon." I found the purse that she rarely used and fished out a twenty dollar bill. My hand was on the doorknob when Mom called my name. I turned to face her. She paused, her painting arm resting against the jut of her hip. "Yea?"

"Just…" she trailed off, and then shook her head. "Please, be careful."

I nodded, trying not to look rushed, already pressing the down arrow on the elevator button.

"I love you," Mom said as I stepped into the elevator.

"You too, mom."

She was still looking at me as the sliding doors closed, her shadow oddly elongated against the bookshelf.


	9. Chapter 9

**WARNING: NIGHTMARES ARE PROHIBITED FROM READING THIS FANFICTION**

Plastic bags crinkled against the bitter wind that blew through the park. I had unlatched the necklace from around my neck and rolled it around, back and forth, hand to hand. Through my gloves I could feel it strange chill, though it was warm when I touched it bare-handed. It was a beautiful sort of magic – yes, _magic_. I loved it. It was made for me.

For the past fifteen minutes I had been debating whether or not to call Jack. My mind called for answers, but my heart parried with its own questions. _What if you don't want to know the answers? What if it changes your life drastically? _

_Well_, I told myself_, I don't see how my life could change any more than it already has._

So, I pulled my fingers out of the gloves and wove the beads around my fingers. That stall that filled you when your weren't so sure anymore rushed through me. It was quickly overcome with curiosity, and I grasped a single bead between my thumb and forefinger. Closing my eyes (after having a paranoid look around for Tobias) I squeezed the bead, expecting it to be difficult to break. The ice cracked and turned to a powdery snow before disappearing completely.

_Jack!_ I shouted in my mind, mentally projecting my voice through the city. I could feel it, pounding against the buildings that stood in its way. The clouds parted in my mind, and I snapped my eyes open.

He fell into the clearing in front of me, if falling was the word for it. Jack paused a foot above the ground unsteadily and rushed towards me.

"What?" He looked around wildly, holding his staff in a defensive position under his arm. I sat patiently on the park bench, and felt a little guilty when he narrowed his eyes at me. He floated towards the ground, his bare feet sending curls of frost through the dirt. "You're not in trouble."

Slowly, like a scolded child, I shook my head. He sighed, leaning against his staff, and looked at me.

"You can't waste the beads like that," he explained with a sigh. My heart leapt. Had he been worried that something _had_ happened to me?

Stop it, my brain told my heart, and it went back to a steady beat. You're here for answers. I stood, making sure not to step on my groceries. As sternly as I could, I said, "I need answers."

He didn't smile. He didn't frown. His face was indifferent, like he knew I would say that and frankly didn't care.

"I'm not allowed to give you any answers." Jack turned, meaning to lift off again in that Peter Pan fashion of his.

My hand gripped his sleeve before I could think to do any different. Jack turned to look at me, his narrowed blue eyes revealing his annoyance.

"Please," I said, because I suddenly felt that the demanding wouldn't work with him. "Please, give me _something_."

The sadness that filled his eyes was scary. It sent a river of ice down my spine. My hand was numb, the one that held onto his hoodie, and I let go when he brushed my hand away. When he blinked, the sadness was gone.

He sighed, relieving my thoughts of defeat. Jack walked over to the park bench and sat down. Respectively, I sat almost a foot away.

"You won't believe me if I tell you," he said. I noticed how his words didn't carry the cloud of white when he talked, whereas I was puffing clouds into the air like an addicted smoker.

"Well, you got me to believe in you," I mumbled, nervous. Jack gave me a sly kind of grin that set my stomach into summersaults.

"True," he relaxed against the bench, his natural swagger coming on overload. Then, more serious, he started to explain: "I'm a Guardian, and Guardians… we,"

"Guard things?"

Jack looked at me funny. I made the motion of zipping my lips shut, and he continued. "In a manner of speaking, yea. We guard the hope, peace, and whatever care there is left in the world. We… we guard people from the darkness that resides in everything. But most important of all, we guard the hope that springs only in children. Without them," he shrugged with one shoulder, "there wouldn't be us. The Guardians."

I nodded slowly, my gaze wandering to the ground. "So… the Guardians… who," maybe I didn't want my questions answered… but I went on. "Who _are_ the Guardians?"

Jack grinned mischievously. He raised his hand and twirled it around, causing a mini snow storm in the middle of his palm. A Christmas tree sprung up, decorated with little teeth. One tooth began to grow before the tree disappeared. It slowly opened, revealing a happily painted Easter egg. The egg began to shrink before it hovered about the sleeping figure of a child, like a dream-bubble. Then the ice faded away, and he set his hand on his leg.

I closed my dropped jaw, slowly piecing the pictures together. "Santa?"

"North," Jack corrected. "And not nearly as rosy as everyone makes him out to be. Russian, too."

The mere thought of a Russian Santa Clause made me want to question humanity. "And…the Tooth Fairy?"

"Toothiana; you're doing well."

"The Easter Bunny, and…and…" I tried to put it all together with the sleeping child. Then I snapped, proud of myself for suddenly remembering. "The Sand Man!"

Jack laughed, throwing his head back as if I just told a hilarious joke. "Yea, Bunnymund and Sandy. Good job."

I grabbed my hair in muted disbelief. "Holy crap! They – they exist? _All_ of them?"

The smile he gave me lit me up inside. He nodded. "Yes, we do."

"But…" I thought back to when he rescued me. At that time, it was like I was flying all by myself. "How come I couldn't see you in the beginning?"

Jack frowned and turned away from me. Not in anger, but in the sadness that I could feel wave off of him. "We have to be believed in to be seen. You didn't believe in me at first, do you couldn't see me. And now…" he nodded, the rest obvious. I felt sad for him, a hole in my heart for the loneliness he must feel, day to day. Then it occurred to me how _old_ he was. Before me was a vision of a carefree, go-lucky teenager, but thinking back on all the old movies and stories, and then guessing at the myths before them…

It opened up a new realm of emptiness in my mind, one that hurt me to imagine for him.

He looked at me, and then stood up. "If that's it," he said, a pale, indifferent look coming across his face, "then I'll get going."

I jumped up when he took off, almost tripping over my groceries. "Wait!" Jack swung around to look down at me. His eyes made my heart jump, but I forced out my next question, the one I really needed answered.

"What are you doing protecting me? Who sent you?" Okay, technically two questions, but both were equally important.

"I told you, I can't answer them!"

"Then take me to the person who can!"

We faced off; he in the air, I standing stiffly against the ground. Now he looked annoyed, but didn't fly off into the clouds like I expected him to. Instead, he jettisoned towards me, stopping inches away from my face. I held my breath because I knew that it would smell like bacon.

"I'll come and get you tonight," he said reluctantly. Backing away, slowing rising higher, he said, "Wear something warm," before flying away, leaving me to try and calm my racing heart.


	10. Chapter 10

**WARNING: NIGHTMARES ARE PROHIBITED FROM READING THIS FANFICTION**

The night came too slowly. The shadows stretched like taffy against the floorboards until the world outside was swallowed with darkness. I paced the living room, turning on the light for my mom and closing the balcony curtains. I cleaned the kitchen, washed the dishes, and did whatever I could to keep myself busy before the sun went down. By the time the last yellow rays of light slipped below the skyscrapers, I had worked myself to the idea that maybe I was too tired to go with Jack.

No. No. I needed answers. My inner being screamed for them, to know what was going on. Mom, still at her painting, kissed me absently on the top of my head when I told her that I was off.

"Sweet dreams, honey," she said as I closed the door. Locking it, and sliding the curtain over my window, I stripped out of my house-clothes and layered my leggings under two pairs of sweatpants. This time, I picked out a gray hoodie that fit over my _Star Wars_ one (note to self: wash _SW_ hoodie soon). I was winding my scarf around my neck when a shadow jumped across the far wall.

I swiped around, fingers clutching the beads around my neck. A wisp of snow white hair peeked out from between the curtain. A dink, dink-dink, echoed through my room, and I pushed the curtains aside. Jack hovered outside of my window. Pulling his staff away from the glass, he back up so I could push open the window.

"Are you ready?" He asked.

My heart was racing; I could hear it in my ears, feel it pounding against my ribcage. But I nodded, and stepped up onto the ledge. Jack flew closer to me and wrapped and arm around my lower back. Slowly, he floated away from the windowsill until I flew with him, clasping to his hoodie with one hand and holding onto him tightly with the other. I tried not to notice how cold he was, how the little warmth he gave me was sort of frightening.

"Hold on tight. Wind!"

And we went soaring, so fast that my breath caught in my chest. I clung tighter to Jack as we went up and up, our faces pushing against the chill of the night. Not daring to look down, I only imagined how small the ground became as we rushed past the shroud of smoggy clouds.

Then we were floating with the stars.

So many stars…they twinkled above us, while the clouds rolled away beneath us. I clung tighter to Jack, my eyes finding so many constellations, so many beautiful white gems that scattered the dark sky like sand on the beach. The moon loomed overhead, full and merry and bright, lighting us up in the night.

A split of green and blue danced across the sky, flickering and wavering like the flame of a candle. Jack looked grim suddenly, observing the dancing light. Then he held tighter to me and ordered Wind to carry us onward. We raced against the Northern Lights. I couldn't tell where we were. There was only sky around us, clouds that wisped and rolled and tumbled under our stomachs as we shot across the night sky.

Soon, though, I began to notice the sudden drop in temperature. I clung to Jack, whose grip tightened around me but offered little warmth. He gritted his teeth, holding his staff out in front of him. We picked up speed, racing the Lights until they ended at a mountain peak. Jack stalled, then angled us downward. Chilly water sprayed our faces as we rushed past the cloud line and emerged above a beautiful while oasis.

The Lights met at what would pass as another snow-capped mountain, but as we flew closer I could spot the indent in the cliff side, where there seemed to be a door. We went barreling towards it, and I hid my face in Jack's chest just as the doors opened and warmth rushed over us.

"C'mon," Jack chuckled, settling onto red carpeted floorboards. "You should learn to trust me sometimes."

I looked up at him, his red tipped nose almost touching mine. My gaze wavered, and I glanced at his lips. But Jack pulled away, his face suddenly a stony mask, and rested against his staff.

"JACK!" Bellowed a voice, thick with a Russian accent. I swiveled around, surveying the scoping magnitude of the toy factory that surrounded me. Towering yetis worked with figurines and toy cars, tops, dolls, robots, anything and everything a child could wish for Christmas. In the middle of the room stood a giant golden globe, millions of tiny lights twinkling like stardust against the gleaming continents. But the one who shouted Jack's name pushed through.

An immense man stood before us, dressed in a bright red tunic and dark slacks tucked into fur trimmed boots. His beard fell straight and cleanly to his waist, and his sleeves were rolled back, revealing _Naughty_ on his right arm and _Nice_ on his left.

"Hi, North," Jack said in a monotone voice, though a friendly smiled played out on his lips. Santa – North – hardly glanced at Jack, his dark blue eyes landing on me.

"Is this…?"

I waited for Jack to introduce me, but he gave me a coy look. So I straightened my back, even though I felt like I need to sit, and said, "Mimzy Bird,"

A long, awkward pause erupted within the workshop. Even the yetis stopped their toy making to look at me with _grunts_ and _oofs_. North gripped my hand, enveloping it in his giant one, and shook my whole arm.

"It is you! Pleasure, what a pleasure it is to finally meet you, Mimzy!" North gave a pert nod to the yetis, and they grunt-shouted their own hellos before returning to work. "Would you like cookie?"

A tiny elf dressed in red ran forward, a tray of multiple cookies held above his bell-tipped head.

"I–"

"Of course you would!" He took a random snowman cookie and placed it in my hand. "And what is cookie without some milk, eh?" Another little elf brought a glass goblet of milk and lifted it up to me. Jack chuckled somewhere behind us, but the giant arm that lead me towards a clear golden platform restricted me from turning around.

North set me down in a hulking red chair that utterly dwarfed me, setting the goblet of milk in my hand. Then he backed away, Jack floating into view behind him. Yetis peeked out from behind their yeti-sized desks; elves skirted across the floor to get a better view of little ol' me. I sat there awkwardly, and unbitten cookie in my hand and the goblet making my arm shake with the effort of not dropping it.

Jack was giving me a look. He glanced from the cookie, to me, cookie, me. _Oh_, I mouthed, and played it off by bringing the frosted snowman to my mouth. "Mmmm…." I murmured, and grinned, even though it tasted like play-dough. The yetis and little elves cheered, and North nodded like he approved of my false enjoyment. When the crowd dispersed, I felt something damp tickling my ear.

A giant pink nose touched mine and I screeched as Bunnymund rose up beside me. An elf saved my dropped milk, puffing with the effort of holding the goblet up. Bunnymund sniffed at me, his whiskers brushing my forehead.

"This is the girl?" His voice was thick with and Aussie accent. Two straps crossed his furry white chest and two boomerangs poked out from his shoulders. He was absolutely nothing like I had imagined the Easter Bunny to be.

"Yes!" North motioned to me enthusiastically. "This is her!"

"She's nothin' but a wee ankle biter!" Bunny stepped back and sat on his haunches. A long, fuzzy ear twitched, and I resisted the urge to touch them.

"Ah, Sandy!" I turned my attention back to North, who now stood with a floating, round little yellow man by his side. The Sand Man was dwarfed by North, and not nearly as intimidating. He had the air of a child ready to play. Sandy floated near me, offering his little hand. An exclamation point appeared above his head when I shook it, and then a question mark when he looked back at North.

"That is her! Misty!"

"Mimzy," I whispered the correction as Sandy floated back beside North. The big hulk of a man looked around curiously.

"Where is Toothiana?"

"Here!" A woman buzzed behind me, flying around my chair to look at me head on. "Oh my goodness," suddenly she was fluttering beside Bunnymund, her hummingbird wings buzzing above her. "Is this her? Oh, she's so cute," she was fluttering in front of me again, gazing at me with giant eyes as colorful at the feathers that layered her body. Little copies of her buzzed around me, one in particular coming rather close.

"Baby Tooth!" The little fairy waved and returned to the Tooth Fairy's side. Now they all stared at me, wide eyed, as if I was supposed to do something.

Jack was the first to break the awkward tension, floating up beside the chair. "Guys, give her some room." They obeyed, backing up only a few feet from the suffocating circle they were in. Then he looked at me, eyebrows up. "You good?" I took a deep breath, observing the colorful people around me. People that I stopped believing in when I was little, but after Jack's explanation in the park, sparked back to life. I knew in my heart that they were real, but a part of my brain refused to accept it.

Finally, setting the unfinished cookie on my lap, I said, "Jack told me I could get some answers from you guys."

Eyes flicked from me to Jack, almost accusingly. Even Jack looked down at me as if I had done something wrong.

"What?" I asked as their voices rose into an argument.

"Maybe she's not one after all," Bunny put in. Sandy shook his head, made the "no way" motion with his hands and his thoughts appeared in golden pictures above his head. I didn't know if he was agreeing with Bunnymund or standing up for me.

And what are they talking about? "Not the one." Not one what?

Toothiana whispered to her fairies. To North, she said, "_Can_ we answer her questions?"

"No," North's commanding voice hushed the room. The group glanced from him to me, unsure of where to look. North's small blue eyes rested on me, but they were not angry; they were childlike and amused, and his rosy cheeks did nothing to help in his seriousness. I waited patiently, though I shifted in my seat. Finally, North stepped forward and Jack took a respective step aside.

"Mimzy," he said quietly, his eyes, now very serious, looked down on me un-accusingly. "What is your center?"

A collective intake of breath could be heard from the Guardians, all except North and Jack. Bunny's ears twitched.

"You don't mean that she… that…" Bunny stopped with a look from North.

Toothiana seemed to beam. She clasped her hands and chittered to her fairies. Sandy only went on smiling at me, while I sat uncomfortably in the giant Santa-sized armchair. The three other Guardians continued to talk among themselves, their voices low enough for me not to hear. I didn't understand what North was asking, so I looked up at him curiously.

He sighed, and said, motioning to the balcony of the workshop. "Come, walk with me."

_I'd rather not_, was my inner response, but I stood, handing my cookie to an elf (who gobbled it up happily) and followed North. I looked back over my shoulder to see the Guardians' eyes following us, Jack's in particular looking very sad. I'd never seen him look so sad.

North led me around the balcony, a giant arm around my shoulder. He nodded to some of his yetis, smiling, but with a hurried look on his face. We came almost all

the way around the balcony when North stopped in front of a door with the glass that made the things behind it disproportional and hard to see. North opened the door and motioned for me to go inside first.

It was his private workshop. Ice, carved by the little chiseling tools that rested here and there, rose up from his desk as a roller coaster, a little cart going round and round up and down on the tracks. Ice ballerinas, dolls, little trucks, danced around us on their own. A silvery-clear plane whizzed by me, it propeller buzzing around my head. I heard the door _click_ shut, and I turned to see North leaning up against it expectantly.

I swallowed hard. Walk off with a strange, very big man and get lost in a strange, very big toy shop. Good move, Mim.

"Let me ask you again," North moved from the door and over to his desk. "What is your center, Mimzy Bird?" He pronounced my last name like board, and it took me a second to see the doll in his hand. It was the kind that you keep opening, unveiling smaller version of the doll until it gets to the smallest one.

"I'm… I don't know what you're talking about?" I glanced back at the door. North grabbed my hand gently, and gave me his giant doll set.

"On the outside, you see big strong man, yea?" He nodded at the doll, and I opened it to see a kinder version than the one holding swords in his grasp. "But I am also honest and rosy cheeked," I opened the next, and he was holding little animals. "I am also kind and gentle, but at my center," I held the smallest doll in the middle of my palm. Dramatically big eyes were painted on the little baby.

"You… have really big eyes?" I ran my thumb over the smooth paint. North took it from me and held it between his thumb and forefinger.

"Yes, big eyes to see wonder and beauty in every little thing," he picked up a mini sculpture of an ice horse. "So I ask you, Mimzy Bird, what is _your_ center?"

I stood there, staring at the little doll in his grasp. With all this wonder, with all the magic around me, it was hard to focus. What was my center? What was the one thing I cared about most, cared about more than anything? Most importantly, what was my gift?

After a moment, I said softly, "My family… my Mom, my best friend… I'd do anything for them."

North paused, and set the ice horse on his desk. A very sad look passed swiftly across his face before being replaced with his usual rosy cheerfulness. He set a hand on my shoulder, and smiled. "That, Mimzy, is the best center of all."


	11. Chapter 11

**WARNING: NIGHTMARES ARE PROHIBITED FROM READING THIS FANFICTION**

"Mimzy? Mim," Nikki's polished fingers snapped in front of my eyes, pulling my out of my daze. I had been staring at a worker in Mona's, and now he looked at me awkwardly as he passed. Sighing, I took a sip of my coffee, absently playing with Jack's necklace.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly. The weight of a practically sleepless night crashed over me when Mom had woken me up around eleven, saying that Nikki was on the phone. Reluctantly, I had grabbed it and was suddenly bombarded with questions._ Where have you been? What have you been doing? Have you been hanging out with him_ – shudder. I simply said that we could meet at Mona's for lunch and I'd answer (or try to) whatever she wanted to know.

Nikki sighed, and sipped her coffee while looking at me. I tried my best to smile, but I think that was what set her off. She set her cup down and crossed her arms on the table.

"You're not telling me something." Her blue eyes looked hard into mine, until I broke and looked at my hands. She swore. "Mim, this whole secrecy thing is really starting to piss me off."

"Sorry…"

"No, I don't think you are." I looked up at her, eyebrows down. "If you were sorry, you wouldn't have kept me waiting for this long."

My stomach dropped. What could she know? Did she… did she know about Jack? No, that's impossible. Nikki's great and all, but I hardly think that she would still believe in Santa, let alone Jack Frost.

I took a hesitant sip of my coffee before saying, "Well… what do you want to know?"

"Firstly," she held up her fingers to count off of them. "Where have you been? I haven't seen you in, like, almost forever. Secondly, what's going on with you? You look so tired."

Nikki touched my forearm kindly. My heart hurt because I couldn't honestly answer any of her questions without her thinking me a total nut-case. So, with a lie forming on my tongue, I said, "I got in trouble for spilling my mom's paints, so I've been grounded. And I've been having…nightmares." There. That last part was true, at least.

She didn't seem totally satisfied, but nodded and leaned back in her stool. "See? That wasn't so hard now, was it?"

_You have no clue…_ I smiled and shook my head. I wanted to tell her, so bad. But she wouldn't believe me. Absently I rubbed the beads between my fingers, and was sparked with an idea.

I grabbed her hand and jumped up, pulling her towards the door.

"Mim! Where are we going?"

"You want answers?" I asked at the crosswalk.

"What? Of course. Mim, what's going on?"

I shook my head. "Not here. But…" I played with the beads, a stupid grin playing out on my face. "You've just gotta trust me, okay?"

We stood on the rooftop of my apartment building, huddling close together against the biting wind. The air was clean, as clean as New York air could be, and we stuck out faces deep into our scarves. Nikki looked worriedly at me, but refrained from saying anything when I pulled my glove off of my hand. I don't know why, but I feel as if I have to actually hold the bead against my skin for it to work. So, I grip one bead and look at my best friend.

"You have to promise me something," I said. She nodded, pulling back her hood.

"I won't say a word," she crossed her heart.

"That's not what I mean. You…" I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. "You won't believe me. You'll think I'm crazy."

Nikki took a tentative step towards me. "Mim, what's going on?"

"Nikki," I said, stepping up to meet her. "You won't believe me,"

"Yes, we established that you deepest darkest secret is going to be utterly insane," she said, then took my hands, "But I'm your best friend."

I give a look over her shoulder at the glass skyscrapers around us. Our reflections are ambling around on numerous rooftops, and I imagine a thousand different ways that this could go wrong.

"Jack Frost is real."

Nikki whips around, surveying the rooftop. "Mim, this isn't funny…"

"I'm not trying to _be_ funny, Nikki," I hold up the necklace. "He gave this to me. He said that if I'm ever in trouble, I just crush one of the beads and he'll come."

"Right," Nikki placed her hands on her hips. "So where is he? Huh?"

"You have to believe in him. Like I believe in him."

Nikki sighs and shakes her head. I can feel that this won't go anywhere unless I _make_ her believe. With the beads cool against my fingers, I take a step back.

"I'll show you," the back of my knee hits the stone wall that surrounds the rooftop. My heart beating faster than a hummingbird's wings, but I climb to stand on the top of the wall. Nikki rushes towards me.

"Mim, stop it,"

I'm clutching the necklace. I look hard at Nikki. "Just…trust me," and I jump.


	12. Chapter 12

**WARNING: NIGHTMARES ARE PROHIBITED FROM READING THIS FANFICTION**

Falling isn't as terrifying as people make it out to be. After flying with Jack, I hardly consider it frightening. It's the long wait, the way you can feel gravity throwing you, that makes your heart leap into your throat.

I break one of the beads, and start thinking that I probably should have done that sooner as the second floor flies past my vision. A second later, I feel like I'm actually going to die.

Then Jack's arm wraps around my waist, jerking me upright when I'm feet above the ground. His face doesn't look happy, and he avoids looking at me as we rise to the rooftop.

"I..." out of breath, it took me a moment to get my words out. "I thought you wouldn't come."

A smile plays with the corners of his mouth, and he looks at me. "C'mon, you've gotta learn to trust me sometimes." We land lightly on the stone wall. My hands on his chest, and his arm tight around my waist. That same look he gave me at the North Pole passed again, and it filled me with a weird warmth. He smiled.

"Oh. My. _God_."

Nikki stands there, slack-jawed, shivering against the wind. "Oh…what… _Mimzy Angelica Bird_!" She grabs my hand and pulls me off of the wall. Jack laughs, and this time, when Nikki looks up, she sees him.

"You couldn't tell me this sooner?"

"Don't use my full name," I blush and turn away from Jack. "You would've thought I was insane."

"I…" she paused, then agreed with me. "But you…this…" Then, pulling me closer, she whispers, "He's _hot_."

"Actually," Jack's floating above us, grinning, "I have a pretty stable body temperature."

I laugh, and Nikki blushes redder than a beat. She lets go of my arm and steps back, shaking her head. "I'm spending the night tonight, and you, missy, are telling me everything."

"But –"

Nikki waves her hands and rushes towards the elevator before I can get another word out. As she disappears, Jack lands gently beside me and leans on his staff.

He chuckles. "She's cute," he says. A sting of pain erupts in my chest. My smile wavers, but I decide to nod.

"She's my bestie."… Right. Yes. An awkward silence pursues us, until Jack swings around to face me.

"Please, refrain from any more suicidal attempts."

I grin, and playfully slug his shoulder. "Why? Does it worry you?"

Jack takes my ungloved hand, his fingers cold against mine. He looks down at our fingers, and I see the stark contrast of our skin. His is pale, white with a sort of pinkish hue. Mine is a few shades darker, and against each other they look…beautiful. That warm feeling spreads through me again, and I can't meet his gaze.

"More than you know, Mimzy," he lifted my face by holding my chin. For a second, I think he's actually going to kiss me. For another second, I realize that I _want_ him to. So badly.

But, like at the North Pole, he backs away, his face suddenly a mask. He turns his back on me as he rides Wind up into the clouds.

I shiver. Something suddenly bitter and cold rides on the Wind. It doesn't feel right.

I told Nikki what I could, interrupted every so after with a _No way_ and _You're making that up_. But she followed along, beaming like a child who was being told a story by the fireplace. By morning, we had hardly slept because of how detailed I tried to be (but let's face it; it was impossible to describe the toy factory, and Toothiana's amazing feather), and she left with a yawn and a tight hug. I was suddenly light and happy. I had told Nikki what had been weighing me down for days.

I felt ready to paint. I returned to my abandoned corner and gathered the blues and white and fine paintbrushes. I started with the background, adding watercolor blue and letting it fall in streams before adding the pale white to it.

For the moment, everything was peaceful and happy. God, I wish those moments lasted longer than they did.


	13. Chapter 13

**WARNING: NIGHTMARES ARE PROHIBITED FROM READING THIS FANFICTION**

The tapping on my window woke me in the middle of the night. The sleep was heavy against my eyes as I sat up in bed. I knew it was Jack before I was fully awake; it's weird, by the ice necklace just told me so. Along my floor ambled piles of clothes (dirty or clean, I would never know) but I still managed to find and pull on my favorite _Star Wars_ hoodie before standing and throwing back the curtain.

The window flew open and an icy, biting wind blasted me across my room. I was pulling my blanket from my head, Jack fell through the window, his hair in disarray and his staff glowing with energy. His face was alight with a childlike happiness. He grabbed my hand and pulled me upright.

"We're going ice-skating. Now."

We flew out the window before I could say another word.

By ice skating, I thought he meant that we were going to break into the rink. You know, shatter the glass and be the bad couple that everybody's jealous of. The alternative was not bad at all though.

Jack pulled me to the top of a hill in Central Park. It wasn't very big, but high enough to create a steep slope. While trying to ignore the fact that Jack still had not let go of my hand, I looked out over the still, silent park. It was amazing how different things tended to be at night, when there was hardly anyone around. Where children threw Frisbees and people picnicked had turned into this quiet, beautiful gray field. I caught Jack staring at me from the corner of my eyes, and he quickly looked away.

"Wanna see something cool?" Releasing my hand, he brought it to his lips and turned towards the open park. He took one deep breath, then blew. Crystalized air flew away from the tips of his fingers, misting together to form giant snowflakes, each shimmering in the moonlight. White clouds gathered around and swept across the park before us. Jack touched the crook of his staff to the ground. The grass froze over and spread out across the park, smoothing everything with a fine layer of ice. Tendrils of frost covered the park benches and the trunks of the trees, turning everything into a bright, magical wonderland.

I turned in a circle, watching as the ice covered the ground, the trees. When I looked back, Jack held his hand out to me. Smiling, I took it, and he pulled my down the slope of the hill.

"Whoa!" I fell against him as my bunny-slipped feet slid out from under me. Jack caught me, and didn't let go. Instead, he guided me, and set a hand at my hip and lifting my other one into the air, clasping his. We danced, though I struggled to keep my balance and could only look at my feet. Jack led me around the ice covered park, gliding around the trees and benches, and once lifting my into the air in a moderate spin. When I landed, I almost tripped, but he pulled me closer.

"This… all this is…" I got lost in everything that surrounded me. In everything that stood in front of me, holding me against him. "You're amazing," _Did I say that?_ Jack smiled, his blue eyes twinkling. A warm feeling spread through me from my chest. _Yea, I said that._

"You have no idea how good it is to hear that," he said quietly, leading me around a park bench.

I swallowed hard. It wasn't normal for me to be so bold, but I said, "Well, you are. This," we paused, just for a second, behind a fountain whose water is frozen mid-stream. "This is _amazing_."

He chuckled. "Glad you think so. I…" his eyes glanced around nervously before looking back into my eyes. "I did it for you."

"Me?" _He did this for me?_ "I thought, you know, since it's winter, you needed to just freeze everything and get it over with."

We spun around the fountain, slowly, his arms guiding me. "Well, that's a factor to this, but," he shrugged. "It's the thought that counts, right?"

I bit my lip. "What _do_ you think of me, Jack?"

Slowly, as not to off-balance me, Jack spun to a stop. He didn't pull away, only dropped my hand and set his at my waist. He held me steady, and his gaze didn't move from mine.

"I think you're amazing, too."

Blushing, I couldn't help but look over to the fountain. I shrugged and pulled away. Jack's arms were still, one hand holding my elbow, almost reluctant to let go.

"You are, Mimzy. The way you light up about this. About books. About anything that you think is beautiful." Jack skated around to face me, but I felt like I couldn't look up at him. How could someone like him think me, a friendless, hopeless girl, special? It felt unreal.

Jack lifted my chin, making me face him. In his eyes, I could see something hopeful. In his eyes were the beauty and generosity of a child that would never grow old. At the same time, they were the weary eyes of someone who knew so much wisdom and had lived through so much anger and fear and pain but still continued to bring joy to anyone who was willing to accept it. They were the eyes that looked at me with so much emotion that I thought I would cry.

"Mimzy?" He held my face, stroking my jawline as one tear escaped. "Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry," I sniffed, wiping the tear away. "Outside of my Mom, no one's ever…" God, I was actually choking up. The tears welled in the back of my throat, and I pressed my hands against my eyes. Jack pulled me against him, and his chest jumped with laughter.

"It's okay, it's okay." He stroked my back in circles. "You know what?"

I tried to sniff up what was dribbling out of my nose (_yeck_) before answering. "What?"

"I like you, Mimzy Bird," his cold breath tickled the top of my head and we took up our steady, rhythmic spin. "You're different. You make me feel…warm." He laughed at himself. "At least, I think this is what warm feels like."

Maybe he could feel my heart beating against his chest. Maybe it was the chilly air, the way we skated…Whatever it was, it gave me the guts to say, "I like you, too."

Jack smiled into my hair. "That's–"

"_That_," the hoarse voice shouted from the darkness, "_was too precious_."


	14. Author's Note

**I'M VERY SORRY TO INFORM YOU...**

I am unable to continue this FF. I'm very sorry for letting you all down. I let myself down most often and don't understand why I thought I could finish this when I have not finished anything, ever. It warms my heart and with great gratitude I thank you for reading what I have been able to post. The comments, however few, have filled my with the joy that only writing can bring me. You have all been a beautiful and loving audience, and I'm sorry I have let you down.

Though I intend to keep this story up (in case I do decide to contiue it) please refrain from begging me to carry on. When I do post, it will be on my own time - if ever again.

I wish there was some serious and a more intimidating reason for my discontinuation of this FF, but there isn't. I simply lost the inspiration, the need, to continue it (and I'm working on that problem presently.)

Again, I am sorry. Thank you for being such a loyal audience thusfar.

Many granted wishes to you all. Goodbye, for now, I suppose.


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